Welcome to the central web of the haunted books. Enter my red-lit parlour, where spirits are evoked, palms read, futures dreamed of, and pasts resurrected.
“The mighty heart of the mountain that haunts the eagles beats fierce in my belly, wolf-turned till my poet’s so strong he devours the lover and fighter in me into one sharp edged blade forged in hell. I am he who they say is coming through the cracks in things once in a century. I’m still coming. Say my name three times. Tell the innocent to taste hope, and let the guilty tremble.”